Infintey and Beyond
by three-days-late
Summary: AU. After being banished from the underground Settlement, Alfred and Arthur are forced to live on the uninhabitable surface. But they have a crazy plan, a rocket, and each other. What more do they need? Well some water would be nice...


Oh look Sci-Fi. Because when a history major takes a science class, the result is Hetalia Sci-Fi.

Enjoy.

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><p>Arthur stared at the riverbed. He'd spent most of the day looking for it again and had been hoping to at least find some ice or something, but it was completely dried up.<p>

"Shit," he tightened the mask, nothing more than a cloth really, but it kept the red, red sand and whatever toxins it carried out of his mouth and nose, and crouched down to shift through the sand, trying not to believe that he had just wasted his day looking for river only to find no water. Something moved out of the corner of his eye and Arthur reflexively pulled out his gun and shot it. He approached it with caution to find it was just another desert rat.

Arthur sighed and put it in his bag. They could use it for food at least; the day wasn't a complete waste. A quick look at the sky told him the sun was starting to set. If he wanted to get back to the cave before night he should leave now, and staying out in the desert after dark was close to suicide.

Sparing one last dejected look at the empty river, Arthur shouldered his bag and continued onward.

* * *

><p>"Hey, you're back!" Alfred looked up from the rocket his was building to smile and greet Arthur when he entered their cave, "Did you find anything?"<p>

He tossed his bag with the rat inside by the fire that they always kept burning, to keep out both the toxins and the cold, and tore off his mask as he plopped down by the fire, "Not a damn drop."

"Ah," Alfred wrenched the soot covered goggles off his face and joined him by the fire, "Well, it's okay. We still have plenty water left. You'll just find some tomorrow."

"Hm," Arthur agreed, although they both knew that was a lie. Their water reserves were running dangerously low; another day or two with no results and they'd be done for. He leaned his head on Alfred's shoulder, trying not to think about their imminent death by dehydration, "How's the rocket coming."

"Great," he smiled and wrapped an arm around Arthur's shoulders, "It's almost ready for takeoff. Just think Artie, soon we'll be off this planet for good."

"We still need to wait for the right alignment for takeoff," he sighed and nuzzled his shoulder, "That's assuming we survive that long, even then that's assuming your crazy plan works, even then that's assume the next planet is any better than this one."

"Such a pessimist," Alfred laughed.

"I prefer the term realist."

"Well, may I remind you, Mr. Realist, you're the one going along with my crazy plan?"

"We're dead if we stay anyway," he shrugged, turning his head so his breath was dancing across Alfred's neck, "might as well go out trying something ridiculous."

Alfred laughed again and kissed the top of his head. That's when he noticed the bag, "Did you find anything?"

"Just a rat," he snuggled further into Alfred, the last person who mattered, the only one who ever did, "You can do something with it if you want."

"We've still got plenty of provisions," he started rubbing circles in Arthur's shoulder, "Might as well cook this now while it's fresh and save those for later."

Arthur nodded, reluctant to let Alfred move, but eventually he wormed his way out of Arthur's hold and, with a kiss, went to make them supper.

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><p>The surface of the planet was uninhabitable. This had been declared several decades before Arthur was even born and yet here they were, about a year into their banishment and six months since they were last able to raid the Settlement.<p>

Arthur wasn't sure what their ancestors, greedy bastards, did exactly to turn the planet into a giant, empty desert, but they had sucked it dry of any useable resources and forced their descendents to scavenge and fight for whatever they could find in the squalor underground. Arthur had always hated it underground, in the only functioning Settlement that restricted everything. So he rebelled, and he fought them at every turn, and eventually they'd had enough and banished him to the surface.

What they didn't expect was resident genius Alfred Jones, basically their only real chance for survival, to defect and go with him.

Arthur didn't either, not when Alfred had a life, a reason to stay, a purpose in the Settlement. Alfred had always claimed otherwise, that Arthur was the best thing to happen to him and he would follow him to the end of the world. Now he was just following through on his promise.

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><p>When he first started coughing up blood, he tried to hide it from Alfred. He knew this would happen eventually, it was foolish to think he could wander around on the surface, outside the protection of their cave, all day everyday searching for water that didn't exist and not catch the Illness.<p>

Back before, back when people still lived on the surface, there was probably a name for it. Now it was just called the Illness, the result of inhaling the toxins aboveground, and while it was treatable back in the Settlement, it was always fatal.

He was able to successfully hide it for about a week until it progressed to the point where he physically couldn't get up in the morning. At that point even Alfred would notice something was wrong.

Luckily Alfred had claimed to finish building the actual rocket and they were just waiting for the next planet to come into alignment so they could blast over to it. Unfortunately their water supply was dangerously low and wouldn't last that long.

So, with many protests from Arthur, but it wasn't like he could actually do anything about it, Alfred donned the cloth mask and left the cave for the first time in months.

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><p>Searching for water in a barren wasteland that had none was much harder than Alfred thought. Yes, he knew it was hard, and he always had respect for Arthur for being able to squeeze what moisture he did from the planet, but he didn't realize it would be <em>this<em> hard.

When they were first banished, they had been able to survive by raiding the Settlement. Kiku, a friend of Alfred's from the Recovery Project, where the whole 'let's blast off the planet in a rocket' idea started, had felt horrible about his situation and had let him back underground to take food and necessary supplies. After six months the situation in the Settlement became critical and it was sealed off from the surface permanently.

Ever since, Arthur had taken it upon himself to find food and water while Alfred finished the rocket from the parts they'd managed to take. And it had worked for them, right up until Arthur got sick.

Arthur had handed him the map he'd been making of the surface, pointed out where the old riverbeds and lakes were, given him some helpful advice (_all the water's ice at this point_, _when the sun starts setting you get your ass back here, if you see something moving kill it,_ tidbits like that) and told him to come back alive.

Alfred had every intention of doing just that.

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><p>It had been Alfred's third day of scouring for water. Their supplies had reached a record low. Alfred had stopped drinking in order to save it all for Arthur; Arthur protested, but again, there was little he could do about it in his condition outside of wasting the water altogether and he wasn't nearly stupid enough to do that.<p>

That didn't matter now, because Alfred found ice.

He sank to his knees in front of it, hysterical laughter bubbling in his chest as he reached out a gloved hand to touch it, just to make sure it was real. It was cold, not surprising, most things out here were, but he could feel it seeping into his gloves, into his fingers, and it was moist and quite possibly the greatest thing he'd seen in his life.

He'd actually found some. In one of the dried up lakes Arthur had written off on the map as completely depleted, but Alfred decided to check once more, he had found ice, a decent amount too. If he tapped it right, it should be enough to last them until the alignment.

They were going to be okay.

Alfred carefully broke the ice apart and put as much of it as he could into the bag. There was still some left; if they did run low again he could come back for more, and he almost cried with relief right there.

They were going to be okay.

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><p>"I think they'd let you back in, if you asked."<p>

"Mm?" Alfred was half asleep, hugging Arthur close both for warmth and to make sure he was still there, that he'd survived another night, not that Arthur was complaining, "What're you talking 'bout?"

Arthur shifted in his arms so they were lying face to face. He'd spent the past week stuck in their cave, by the fire as that offered the only relief to the Illness. He was left with nothing to do but lie there, check their supplies again, and think.

He'd been doing a lot of thinking, about Alfred, about why Alfred was here doing this with him, what Alfred would be doing if he hadn't followed Arthur, what Alfred would do if Arthur did die, and what Arthur would do if Alfred didn't come back. He tried not to think about that last one all that much, but all of this thinking left him with one solution for Alfred.

"If you went back to the Settlement, I think they'd let you in."

"You're crazy Arthur," he yawned and pulled him against his chest, "They sealed the entrance to the surface. They're not opening it for anything."

"They'd open it for you, I'm sure, if you just asked," Arthur insisted, Alfred needed to understand, "If you wanted to go back-"

"No," Alfred held him tighter, "We promised. We're in this thing until the end, together."

"Alfred, love, you have to be reasonable," he pulled away and took his face in his hands, "I'm not going to be around much longer. No," he put a finger against his lips when he tried to protest, "You know it's true. Don't deny it. I might, there's a very real possibility I won't make it to the alignment. Even if I do, do you honestly think I can survive a trip to another planet? And even if I manage that, what are the odds that the new planet has a cure?"

Alfred pouted and looked away, but didn't say anything, so Arthur continued, "I'm very grateful for everything you've done for me, but you've got to start thinking about yourself. You were never officially banished. Kiku even said, the last time we spoke to him, that they would let you back in if you wanted to. I, I wouldn't mind if you decided to go back underground."

"Yes you would," Alfred sighed, closed his eyes, and rested their foreheads together, "You're a horrible liar. You say you wouldn't mind, but you don't want to die alone in this cave."

"I, we're not talking about me," Arthur clutched at his shirt, balling it in his fist, "We're talking about you. I'm already done for; nothing can save me now. I never stood a chance anyway. But you, you could still make it. You can go back underground and save yourself, save the rest of them, be the hero."

"I don't need to be their hero as long as I'm yours," he pulled back and cupped Arthur's cheek in his hand, "and I'm not going back underground. Not without you."

"Idiot, they'd never let me back in," he sighed and leaned his forehead against Alfred's shoulder, "You still have a chance though. Why can't you see that?"

"I don't want it. If I go back and it's not with you it's not worth it."

"You are the worst, most impossible idiot ever," Arthur buried his face in his chest, "You have to promise me though, please, that if I do die before the alignment that you will go back to the Settlement."

"Arthur, you're not going to-"

"Just, if. If that does happen, if there's nothing to keep you up here anymore, promise me you'll go back."

Alfred started stroking the back of his head, "If that's what you want."

"It is," Arthur looked up into his eyes, "Say it please. I need to hear you say it."

"If you, don't make it, I promise I'll go back."

"Thank you," he exhaled and nestled against his chest again, "Thank you love."

Arthur fell asleep to the sound of Alfred's heart beating, steady, secure, constant, just as it's always been.

* * *

><p>"Arthur?" he felt himself be shaken, "Arthur, you're alive right? Please tell me you're alive."<p>

He coughed and tried to sit up, managing to get halfway before Alfred pulled him the rest of the way, "Yes, I'm still here."

Alfred smiled the first genuine one he'd seen on his face in a while, "Good, because we're here."

The rocket was small and only had two rooms, a cockpit for Alfred to pilot from and a small, other room for Arthur to sleep and for what remained of their supplies to be stored. Arthur had spent the entire trip on the bed, fading in and out of consciousness and nightmares, calling out for Alfred despite knowing that he couldn't come. Once or twice he woke up and noticed Alfred feeding him or making him drink, but that was the only contact they'd had with each other for weeks; Alfred had to fly the rocket and Arthur was too busy being sick and delirious.

They'd landed though. After everything, they were here on this other planet, their new home, everything they'd been dreaming about since they first met all those years ago. And best of all, they were here together.

"C'mon," Alfred gently picked him up and carried him out of the rocket, Arthur's arms wrapped around his neck, "You'll love it. It's very green, like your eyes."

"Green?" he hadn't seen the color green in ages. Alfred saw it all the time, whenever he looked in his eyes, and Arthur was struck with a sudden thought, when was the last time Alfred saw blue?

Alfred exited the rocket, Arthur in tow, and stopped for a moment, giving him the chance to look around and see for himself. It was green, like Alfred said. They had landed in a jungle, warm, humid, and he could hear the sound of rushing water not too far away. Those facts alone made this planet perfect, the bright blue sky similar to Alfred's eyes overhead, the colorful flora and fauna throughout the jungle, and the joy of finally being on a planet where they could not only survive but _live_ above ground merely being bonuses.

"Put me down," he insisted, "I think I can stand."

Alfred did so, and although Arthur wobbled a bit and had to cling to Alfred for support, he found he could stand on his own.

"It's the air," Alfred smiled, and Arthur couldn't help but find it infectious, "The flight over's been giving your body enough time to get rid of some of the toxins. Now that we're here, on a new planet with fresh air, you should be able to flush them all out."

"Yes, and absorb the new toxins this planet has," he chuckled, "Where are we anyway? Who lives here?"

"Well I've checked, and there doesn't seem to be any people here. I think the dominant species is reptile."

"Oh, that's… different." How was it he could plan for every possible negative outcome but this?

"Yeah, but it should be fine. They'll leave us alone if we leave them alone kind of thing," Alfred shrugged, "This planet doesn't have a name yet though."

"So we get to name it?"

"Seems that way. You got any ideas?"

Arthur thought about it, a grin sliding on his face as he contemplated it.

"How about, Earth?"

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><p><strong>AN: **If I didn't make it obvious enough, Alfred and Arthur are from Mars. They land on Earth during the Jurassic Period.


End file.
